


Your Type of Metal

by thymelord



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Frank Iero, Choking, Desk Sex, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Top Gerard Way, absolute fucking Sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/pseuds/thymelord
Summary: Frank Iero was the class terror whose sole purpose in life was to annoy the fuck out of his art teacher, Mr. Way, who was practically counting down the days until the little shit's graduation on his calendar.And then he overhears Frank telling his friends exactly what he'd like Mr. Way to do to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing real person fanfiction and i feel so sinful holy shit @God i’m so sorry. i know there’s like a million student-teacher frerards out there but there’s always room for a million more in my humble opinion.
> 
> oh and: Frank is 17 in this, which is above the age of consent in my country and many others, but not in some so thats why i didn’t mark it as underage but consider yourself Warned I guess

Mr. Way never thought he would ever regret becoming a teacher, but Frank fucking Iero was the master of inducing unexpected emotions.

Frank always had been a cheeky little shit, it was true; but lately, he had been getting on Mr Way’s last nerve. Frank seemed to be doing anything and everything in his power to irritate the fuck out of him, and he had no idea why. Was the boy trying to make him quit? If so, he was dangerously close to getting his wish. Mr. Way didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this. He was on the verge of praying to a God he hadn’t believed in since he was like seven years old, beseeching him to get Frank to _leave him the fuck alone._

As he watched Frank’s class file in yesterday, Mr. Way had fully prepared himself for another period’s worth of snarky comments, eye-rolls, and scrunched-up paper throwing. But Frank looked oddly subdued, glancing at him nonchalantly for a second or so before sitting down. Mr. Way was instantly suspicious – what was he planning? An evil, elaborately thought out prank, perhaps? Even worse than the time Frank locked him in the supply cupboard for half the lesson?

But for once in his life, Frank was silent nearly all lesson, speaking only when Mr. Way asked him a question, and then without any hint of sarcasm or cheekiness. Mr. Way had no idea what to think.

“Frank,” he had said to him after class, as the rest of the class had begun to rush out upon the final bell ringing, “are you alright?”

Frank gave him a dismissive look, flicking a strand of black hair from his eyes. He was chewing a piece of gum, more loudly than necessary. “I’m fine, _sir.”_

“You’ve been unusually quiet this lesson.” Mr. Way had no idea what he was doing. Did he _want_ Frank to be a little shit? What was wrong with him?

“I’m fucking fine,” snapped Frank. “Can I go now?”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” said Mr. Way automatically. “Detention tomorrow, at lunch.”

Frank snorted at him, and turned to leave.

“And take that gum out,” tried Mr. Way, but of course Frank just looked back at him, gave a particularly loud chew, and sauntered out of the room.

That was yesterday. At the close of the day, Mr. Way had not been seriously considering quitting his job, quite the contrary. But today...

He walked past a small group of juniors, all with their backs to him. Frank seemed to be in the middle, speaking animatedly, and Mr. Way was about to hurry past when he caught a few of Frank’s words, and he stopped dead.

“Of course I’m being nice to him,” Frank was saying, chewing his omnipresent piece of gum. “I’ve been really shitty to him over the past year. I feel kinda bad.”

“So why were you so shitty to him?” demanded a punky girl with bright pink hair and enough piercings to stock a small jewellery shop.

“I guess I just wanted to get his attention,” shrugged Frank, worrying at his lip ring with his tongue. Mr. Way was mesmerized by the movement, and hastily snapped his eyes away  back towards Bubblegum Hair when she started to speak.

“Why?” she asked Frank derisively.

A slow smirk spread across Frank’s face. “God, Nicola, isn’t it fucking obvious? I want to fuck him. I didn’t realise it until last week, but that’s what all this shit’s been about all along. It’s been a fucking repressed crush. How ridiculous is that?”

“How can you _just realise_ you want to fuck someone?” said someone else. “God, Frank, you’re so stupid.”

Mr. Way found himself inwardly agreeing with that last statement, even as his brain whirled dizzyingly, somehow not being able to fully process what Frank was saying.

“Like I said, repressed. He’s a teacher, a _lameass_ teacher. There’s no real reason why I’d want him, but damn, he’s just so fucking pretty – have you _seen_ the man? The things I’d do to him – _God –_ I’d get down on my knees for him while he fucked my throat raw –“

“Fucking hell, Iero, we don’t need the _details!”_ shouted Nicola, to a raucous laugh from Frank, which quickly died in his throat when he saw Mr. Way staring at him with a stricken expression on his face. Frank’s friends turned around as one, their faces taking on identical expressions of delighted horror when they saw who was standing there.

Mr. Way did the worst possible thing he could have done in the circumstances. 

He fled.

*

In his next class with Frank, Mr. Way was an absolute nervous wreck.

He had no idea why this was affecting him so much. He knew that Frank didn’t mean it, that he was just messing around with his friends in a typically Frank-like manner – probably he knew Mr. Way has been listening all along, and wanted to wind him up.

And yet...

Mr. Way couldn’t forget the horror-struck look that Frank had given him when their eyes met. Was it possible that Frank was being serious?

He dropped the whiteboard pen at least five times during the course of the lesson, trying to ignore Frank’s piercing stare which seemed never to leave him, and in the end he just put on a fifteen-minute long video about _chiaroscuro_ for the class to watch while he sat behind his desk and attempted to pull himself together. He saw a few kids nudge each other, and caught the words, “Is Sir alright?”

“Pull yourself together Gerard, for fuck’s sake,” he whispered to himself quietly, so that it was only audible to him. Frank had gone from starting intently and somewhat creepily at him to snatching small glimpses, the tiniest of smiles playing around his mouth. Mr. Way had been hoping that he would be acting awkward and sheepish, but of course he wasn’t; he was Frank fucking Iero. Instead, it was Mr. Way who was acting awkward and ridiculous, like _he_ was the teenager. God fucking dammit.

Why the _fuck_ did he ever get into teaching in the first place?

When the bell rang, Mr. Way attempted to escape from class as soon as possible along with the tidal wave of pupils, but was stopped by a light touch on his arm, drawing him carefully aside.

“Sir,” said Frank, smirking that _fucking smirk,_ “I need a word about my last piece of work.”

Mr. Way forced a smile. “Of course, Frank.” His eyes quickly darted to the door as the last other pupil left, leaving him and Frank alone. “What did you want to discuss, in particular?”

Frank pushed the door firmly closed. “You’ve been acting absolutely ridiculous all lesson. You’re glad none of my friends are in this class, or they’d never stop teasing me.” He leaned against the wall nonchalantly. For once, he wasn’t chewing any gum. “What’s wrong, Mr. Way? Did your eavesdropping make you all flustered?”

“Frank,” said Mr. Way through gritted teeth, “this is highly inappropriate, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” He gestured to the door half-heartedly, knowing Frank wasn’t going to listen to a word he said.

“I wasn’t lying, you know.” Frank took a step towards his teacher, who automatically took a step back, and knocked into the corner of the desk. Wincing, Mr. Way rubbed his hip and swallowed. “I meant what I said,” continued Frank, taking another step forward. “I want to fuck you, sir.”

That _sir_ sent a shiver through Mr. Way’s body, and Frank almost certainly saw it. There was now mere inches between them, and Frank leaned in, kissing Mr. Way’s neck softly. A small moan escaped him, and he wrapped his arms around Frank, drawing him in. “Frank,” he gasped, arching into him. “Please –“

“Holy shit,” murmured Frank against his neck, pushing his knee in between Mr. Way’s legs. “You’re _this_ hard already, and we haven’t even made out yet? Damn, sir. How long have you wanted this for? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me before?”

“Fuck you,” shot back Mr. Way as Frank nipped at his neck, almost drawing blood. He moved against Frank’s leg shamelessly, seeking any sort of friction, _anything_ that would relieve the aching in his groin. “Frank, please,” he repeated.

“What do you want, Mr. Way?” whispered Frank.

“Gerard,” he gasped out. “Call me Gerard.”

Frank giggled, unexpectedly. “Your name is _Gerard?_ Why do you have an old man’s name?”

“Shut the fuck up, your name is _Frank._ ”

“Fuck off.” Frank ground his hips downwards, eliciting another groan from the man beneath him. “What do you want?” he repeated.

“I want to fuck you,” gasped Gerard. He shoved Frank to his knees, the boy gasping with shock at the sudden role reversal. Gerard grabbed his chin, tilting his head upwards, Frank gazing at him through half-lidded eyes. “And I want you to stop acting like a fucking brat.”

For once in his life, Frank Iero was speechless.

Gerard grabbed him by his hair, yanking him forward so his nose was practically brushing Gerard’s crotch. “You know what I want.”

Frank looked up, hindered slightly by the vice-grip on his hair. “I’m afraid I don’t, sir,” he said with a crooked smirk. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He gasped as Gerard gave a rough tug on his hair, snarling.

“I thought I told you to stop acting like a brat, Frankie,” said Gerard, voice low and dangerous. “Now suck my fucking cock.”

“Yes, sir,” whispered Frank, and Gerard’s breath hitched. He knew it. He fucking _knew_ that beneath that veneer of teenage arrogance and cockiness, Frank ardently desired to be dominated.

Frank pulled Gerard’s zipper down – with his fucking _teeth_ , Jesus Christ this boy was going to drag Gerard to his grave – and wrapped his lips around his cock, swirling his tongue over the head. Gerard moaned, head falling back, hand tightening on Frank’s long, ebony-black hair. “Fuck,” he whispered. He ached to thrust into Frank’s throat, but held himself back, not knowing if Frank would be able to take it. He gave a small, experimental thrust, and Frank groaned around his cock.

Gerard pulled him off, cock slipping out of Frank’s mouth with an obscene, wet pop. “How rough can you take it, Frankie?”

Frank’s drool-flecked mouth curved upwards. “Didn’t you hear me say I wanted you to fuck my throat raw?”

Gerard was certain he’d never been this turned on in his entire twenty-seven years of life.

He thrust deeply down Frank’s throat, heady vibrations running through his cock as Frank moaned in ecstasy around him. Gerard held Frank’s head still, fingers still twined around his hair, as he roughly fucked Frank’s mouth. He was pretty sure the damn boy had been born without a gag reflex.

Even though he yearned to shoot his load into that pretty mouth, he somewhat reluctantly pulled Frank off his cock and spun him around, bending him over the desk. Frank’s hands landed with a thud on the surface, scattering a pile of half-graded essays over the floor. Gerard reached around to undo Frank’s belt, and he whimpered.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” murmured Gerard in Frank’s ear, tongue flicking out to caress the soft skin on his earlobe.

“Yes,” groaned Frank. “Please - ”

“Please _what?”_ growled Gerard. He was now holding Frank’s belt in his left hand and running his right over Frank’s silky-smooth buttocks.

“Sir,” gasped Frank, back arching as Gerard pushed a finger inside him. “Please, sir, I need you, I need you now...”

“Patience, my dear whore.” Gerard pulled out a small bottle of lube from his desk drawer, and Frank stared at it incredulously.

“How many students do you fuck, sir?” he said with a smirk.

Gerard lashed the belt over his ass, and Frank felt pain lance through him, his cock growing even harder than before. “Manners,” snarled Gerard. He pushed his slick member against Frank’s hole, head just breaching him. “Are you ready?”

“Yes sir,” responded Frank, voice taut with lust.

Gerard pushed slowly into him, and Frank’s breath hitched. “Are you alright?” Gerard asked.

“Yes sir, please, harder, I can take it - ”

Abandoning his last vestige of control, Gerard thrust deeply into him, pounding his ass with an almost brutal velocity. Frank was completely losing his mind, and a sudden cry of pleasure indicated that Gerard had found his prostate. Grinning, Gerard thrust against that spot, and Frank was nearly sobbing from overstimulation and lust, and Gerard was pretty sure that this was the best sex he’d ever had and nothing could be better than this –

“Choke me, sir.”

Gerard nearly choked himself upon hearing this. _“What?”_

“You heard me, sir. Choke me. With the belt. Please.” The staccato rhythm of his words nearly matched Gerard’s thrusts, each sentence punctuated by a breathy gasp. Gerard slid the belt off the desk and wrapped it around the front of Frank’s throat like a garrotte. Frank’s groan was abruptly cut off, and he faintly managed to whisper “Sir...” before he was shuddering beneath Gerard, splattering the remaining essays on the desk with thick white ropes. It wasn’t long before Gerard was coming too, dropping the belt on the floor and spending his load into Frank.

The two of them panted for a moment, Frank turning to snuggle against Gerard’s chest. He let out a delighted, surprised little laugh. “Never took you to be a cuddler, Iero.”

Frank smiled against him. “Never took you to be so fucking kinky, sir.” They looked at the despoiled essays on the desk.

“Shit,” murmured Gerard.

“Say the dog ate them,” said Frank with his cheeky little smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> when i was about to post this i bit into an apple that turned out to be rotten and i'm pretty sure it was God's way of punishing me for this Sin. i've also tried to post this three times and it kept glitching out so i think God really wants me to just Stop
> 
>  [my tumblr](https://thymelord.tumblr.com/)


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